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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856226">Belittled Witch Academia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextileTown/pseuds/TextileTown'>TextileTown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Little Witch Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bullying, Middle School</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:47:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TextileTown/pseuds/TextileTown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Middle school can be really tough for a little girl aspiring to be a great witch.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Belittled Witch Academia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Wakko, you gonna miss me” a rectangular shaped girl leaned over to the desk at the centre of the class room. Its occupant wore a well honed neutral expression on a face that was far sweeter than it had been lead to believe.</p>
<p>“Wakko” came the accosting tone from another girl sitting in front “she said are you going to miss us. Cause we'll miss you, what's the name of the school you're going to?”.</p>
<p>“Luna Nova” said the brown haired girl a brief spark of emotion extinguished as a flailing bag hit her left shoulder. Its wielder taking a seat on a nearby desk asked the other girls “What you asking Wakko?”.</p>
<p>“Hey. Oh she's telling us about Loser Nova that witch place she's going to” explained the rectangular girl. “Can you imagine anything more tragic than a school full of Wakkos?” the bag girl said before starting a new conversation with her two friends as if the brown haired girl was not there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The nervous first day with her elementary school friends forming a group. Gradually as they got to know others the clique faded and others formed.</p>
<p>It was during that febrile time that it happened. She was walking with two friends who she kept bumping in to on the way to school. As they neared the gates a pair of older girls passed them. “Love your backpack” one of them said. The brown haired girl replied excitedly “Thank you” and with heartfelt warmth asked “are you a Shiny Chariot fan too?”. The older girls looked at each other and one replied “Oh my god, you're such a loser. You girls some Shiny Chariot fan club or something?”</p>
<p>That was all it took. Her two friends denial seemed to crystallize in their minds what they had known, but never really seen. The brown haired girl still had the Shiny Chariot backpack, still had the Shiny Chariot pencil case, still had the three Shiny Chariot keitai straps on her out-of-date phone.</p>
<p>She was odd – didn't she want to become a witch?</p>
<p>She was strange – she didn't care about the right things.</p>
<p>She was not our friend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Wakko you not joining in?” The three girls surrounding the brown haired girl returned to their prey. The rectangular one said mockingly “She's ignoring us again, you ignoring us Wakko?”</p>
<p>The bag girl reminisced “Remember the time Fatty Ratty thought she'd given him a valentines?”</p>
<p>“God yeah, he was sweating like a pig all day...and when he finally talked to her and he realised it was a joke” the memory brought comical memories back to the three.</p>
<p>“That was cruel” said the brown haired girl.</p>
<p>“Sorry Wakko, you say something?”</p>
<p>The brown haired girl had a neutral expression</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Assembly. The last one. The top student in the year was giving a speech.</p>
<p>“...and many of you will go on to work in great professions...teaching, medicine, engineering, and of course...witchcraft”</p>
<p>Nearly every student was laughing, a few of the teachers were smiling, the girl at the podium was looking at the brown haired girl. The brown haired girl was looking back at her. She had endured the attacks for three years, the insults, the pranks, the ostracism. And yet in the furnace of derision she wore a resolute expression. The laughter faded. The speech continued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Miss Kagari” the friendly American accent of her teacher, who else would be speaking to her in English? “Gee I'm glad I caught you”. They stood in the corridor as students flowed past them. “I wanted to say good luck to you in Merry Olde England, remember to watch those Ps &amp; Qs with those aristocrats”.</p>
<p>“Thank you” said the brown haired girl “I owe you so much”. Gone was the neutral expression, replaced by a faint smile. His smile was far broader “That's what we're here for to get you kids where you need to go” he looked around and leaned in slightly “hey do me a favor and show all these non-believers what it means to be a graduate of Luna Nova”. The brown haired girl felt the tears knocking on the door. She bowed deeply and then flew away down the corridor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The last bell on the last day of school. The brown haired girl packed her books quietly and calmly amid the furore that filled the classroom and slipped out unobserved. She had no friends to say goodbye to and no party that night to get excited about. Today the shoe locker only had her shoes in. As she went outside she let herself imagine the broad rim of a witches' hat that would soon shade her on days like this. There would be other witches, probably none who loved Chariot as much as she did, there would be other fans though. And young witches from all over the world, all her sisters in the mystic arts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was nearly over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was no rush to leave the place. It was a dragon she had battled for three years that now lay slain at her feet. She turned halfway to the gate for a final look at the corpse. Her gaze fell as a gaggle of students bombarded through the doors on to the wide playground, where she stood alone.</p>
<p>“Wakko!”</p>
<p>Standing there with the afternoon rays on her wistful features it was more apparent than usual that she was by some margin the prettiest girl in her class; something those who put much more effort into achieving that prize despised her for. One of the group, for whom the gap was particularly noticeable, came to stand beside her draping an unwanted arm over her shoulder “Let me get a photo with...oh what did we used to call her?”</p>
<p>“Weird Wakko The Lesbo Phycho” one of the group helpfully reminded to communal amusement.</p>
<p>“Get your arm off me” the brown haired girl said quietly and forcefully.</p>
<p>“What's that?” said the rectangular girl stepping out from the group bringing her phone up to take the photo “I think she wants you to squeeze her more”. The girl did as instructed and brought the brown haired girl closer to her. The brown haired girl wanted to give a swift elbow to the stomach. To raise a wand and turn them into cockroaches. She stood and had a picture taken and then watched as it was shown around.</p>
<p>“My name is Akko”. The words were not for those who heard her speak, they were for the brown haired girl who spoke them. She turned her back on her class, on the school, on this part of her life and passed through the gates for the final time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was over.</p>
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